Star Trek: Enterprise - Three Days too Die
by DgirlLuna
Summary: It was just a scratch, he was fine...or so he thought... Trip Tucker SickFic.
1. Chapter 1

**Three Days Too Die**

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own _Startrek: Enterprise_ or any of their characters.

 **A/N** : Hi, I have made several revisions to this chapter, but the plot line is still the same. I like this version much more than the last one and I hope y'all do as well! Reviews are appreciated!

Readers:

 **lizard971** , thank you for the advise, I hadn't thought of that.

And thank you **Guest** and **Turner69** for your comments.

Lastly, I apologize for any misspelled words or grammatical errors. Now, enjoy!

* * *

"C'mon Trip!" Archer shouted, holding his injured arm tightly against his side as they rushed through the thick underbrush back to the shuttle pod. "I would be going faster…but somebody… has to carry…T'Pol, and what with…your arm and all, I'm...the only one…who can!" Trip shouted between breaths, doing all that he could to maintain his pace without dropping T'Pol or running into a tree.

"We're almost there! Just a little farther Trip!" Archer again shouted, his own energy depleting as rapidly as the blood that flowed from his arm. Trip grunted in response, not willing to waste much-needed energy on formulating an actual verbal response.

As he flew past trees and underbrush he dodged several low hanging limbs and almost dropped T'Pol's unconscious form several times. Just as he ran around another tree with low limbs, trying to keep up with Archer, his foot hit a root and he and T'Pol went flying.

The whole world, foreign as it may be, spun upside down until Trip landed hard on his back, T'Pol still clutched tightly to his chest and seeming to be relatively unhurt. Trip groaned as every muscle screamed in agony, and before he could get back to his feet he was surrounded by the natives of this planet.

The _hostile_ natives that is, which may or may not have been his fault. Trip looked around hastily, despite the angry protests of his muscles, but he couldn't see Archer anywhere. Berating himself for stumbling, he hoped that Archer had managed to reach the shuttle and a fresh power cell for his phasor.

Pulling himself from his wistful thinking he noticed that the native who appeared to be in charge of this hunting party was getting closer, and he did not look happy. Trip did a quick assessment of his situation, wishing that T'Pol would wake up, but knowing that if she did, she probably wouldn't be much help, what with a concussion and all.

It was relatively clear behind him to his left, all the natives were approaching from in front and to the right of him. Trip noted with resignation that his escape route was covered in sharp, mean looking bushes, but he knew that he didn't have any other choice and he could only hope that he didn't end up injuring T'Pol further.

Slowly the angry leader approached Trip with a curious look, seeming to note the somewhat helpless way that Trip laid sprawled out on the forest floor and the fierceness with which he clung to T'Pol. "Arame tyfo lactona" The leader said and it took Trip's translator, which had been adapted by Hoshi, a moment to give a rough translation of what was said, "Must be his mate."

Upon hearing this, Trip looked at T'Pol and noted the way he had her clutched protectively to his chest. He quickly pushed those thoughts away, he was only holding her this close to protect her from the fall, right?

The leader again spoke, indignation and confusion evident in his voice even though Trip couldn't understand the language. "If so, then why take an interested in my sister? Only to throw our traditions back in her face? Grab her." The translator repeated the leader's next words as two natives moved forward to take T'Pol from Trip's arms.

"Over my dead body!" Trip shouted as he clutched T'Pol tighter, if that was possible, and rolled to his left, away from the natives, and into the sharp bushes before managing to use the momentum to get to his feet, groaning as his body protested his movements.

At first, the natives were surprised by his move, but they quickly recovered and advanced as a group. Before he could get ten feet, he was suddenly completely surrounded, somehow they had managed to trap him in a circle of densely packed trees.

Turning, he put his back to one of the trees and painfully knelt down in order to gently place T'Pol on the ground until he had only an arm around her shoulders to support her. Glancing down at T'Pol's unconscious form, he ignored protesting ribs and managed to grab his phase pistol from the holster at his side, he raised it as quickly as he could and aimed for the closest native.

Obviously, the natives remembered its power from when Archer, T'Pol and Trip had first been attacked by them as they paused in their advance. Unfortunately, the power cell in the phasor was too depleted to do any good, but Trip hoped that it would take them a little while to add up that it wasn't working. "Stay back or you'll regret it." Trip said in as menacing a tone as he could manage, still kneeling down protectively beside T'Pol.

The tense moment stretched for what seemed like an eternity, neither side willing to back down nor able to advance. Eventually one brave native took a step forward, testing Trip. Silently Trip was looking for other options, but he couldn't see any that ended well for him and T'Pol.

The brave native shared a look with the leader and the whole group took a step forward, they were a very coordinated group, Trip noted resentfully. Despite its uselessness Trip continued to point the phasor at the natives, shifting his aim between those closest. Trip watched as understanding crossed the leader's face and he prepared himself to defend against the coming attack.

He watched as the leader seemed to send silent commands to the others and just as the leader took a step forward, Trip and all of the other natives were shocked to see a bolt of light strike the leader in the chest, knocking him to the ground unconscious. Trip was the first to recover from the shock and was already picking T'Pol up and getting to his feet when the second native went down.

Looking around he spotted Archer engaging another native, but the encounter was over before the native had a chance to do any damage. Archer caught sight of Trip and T'Pol out of the corner of his eye and took off in their direction.

"Come on, the shuttle's this way!" He shouted as he passed them, only taking a second to really assess their physical wellbeing. "Took you long enough!" Trip shouted back jokingly as he began running behind Archer.

"Ah, you had it handled!" Archer tossed back over his shoulder, relieved that Trip still had the energy to joke. Trip just shook his head as he gave it all he had to keep up with the Captain. Keeping up was much harder this time because every movement jarred his ribs and holding T'Pol tightly put a lot of pressure on his chest which caused him to take shallow breaths and limited the amount of oxygen that his muscles could get.

When they had been running towards the shuttle the first time, his adrenaline had been pumping, but now he could feel with acute awareness the lack of adrenaline being pumped through his system. Taking that fall and the standoff with the natives had really taken its toll on his adrenaline storage and he knew that now he was only running off of will power and determination.

Thankfully the shuttle came into view after only a few more minutes of running. Archer reached it first and got the hatch open. Trip entered and carefully secured T'Pol to a chair. He then went to the controls and nodded breathlessly at Archer when he came in and closed the hatch. "Let's get out of here," Archer said, his hand again going to his injured arm before he took a seat beside T'Pol.

"Hold on Capt'n, it's gonna get a little bumpy." Trip said as the shuttle took off from the planet. The turbulence was strong and Trip fought to maintain control of the shuttle. When they finally cleared the atmosphere Trip glanced back to see Archer assessing T'Pol's condition.

"How is she?" He asked, worried that he had done more damage during their escape. "As far as I can tell she's okay, the swelling on the back of her head isn't too bad, Phlox will be able to tell us more," Archer responded and Trip could hear the relief in his voice.

"Good, she had me worried there for a little bit." Trip said before returning his full attention to flying the shuttle. "I can't believe you insulted those natives, I'd thought that you were more diplomatic than that." Archer said, dramatically sighing in exasperation.

Trip looked back at him and smiled, "Well, don't worry Captain, I'll never thank another woman again. Especially an alien woman with a custom that considers 'thank you' a marriage proposal and a challenge to her current marriage proposal. From this point onward I'll be an ungrateful jerk." Trip said as he and Archer began laughing, the pressure of the world seeming to lift from their shoulders.

* * *

"Shuttle Pod One to Enterprise, we've taken some damage. T'Pol is unconscious from a hard hit to the head and Capt'n Archer has a cut on his upper right arm that is still bleedin'." Trip said as he prepared to dock in Shuttle Bay One. "Copy that, there will be a medical team waiting to transport them to Sickbay." Lieutenant Malcolm Reed responded quickly, already sending the orders to the medical team.

"What happened down there, Commander?" Malcolm asked, managing to hide the worry and guilt he felt for not sending more protection. "The natives didn't take too kindly to what we meant by our gratitude." Trip responded and Malcolm noted that he sounded tired.

"Sounds like a story I'll have to hear one of these days" He replied, "I'll see you in Sickbay Commander." Upon receiving confirmation from Trip, he turned to Mayweather, "You have the Bridge." Mayweather nodded and he responded, "Yes Sir." Malcolm then began making his way to Sickbay.

Reaching Sickbay Malcolm saw Phlox turning from T'Pol to Captain Archer, who was sitting on a bio-bed holding the wrist of his injured arm. With precise movements, Phlox began to cut away the fabric above the injury. Quickly and efficiently he cleaned, stitched and bandaged the wound.

"It is not a deep cut, but it did bleed rather extensively. I suggest that you rest for today and don't lift anything with that arm for the next week, Captain." Phlox said as he tied the bandage off, then he turned back to T'Pol in order to see if her scan was complete.

As Phlox checked the scan, Archer slowly got off the bio-bed and made his way to Malcolm who had positioned himself out of the way by the door. Noting that Captain Archer had moved, Phlox spoke louder in order to convey T'Pol's condition.

"It seems that Sub-commander T'Pol only received moderate damage, she should regain consciousness in a few hours. Until then I will start her on anti-swelling medication." Phlox said before finally turning to Trip. As he looked him over, he also scanned for any internal injuries.

"Commander Tucker, it appears that you have severally bruised your ribs and have several minor scratches, however, they don't look to be infected right now, but it may be a little early to detect anything," Pausing, Phlox turned to one of the many cabinets in Sickbay, "I do have some cream that will help to prevent infection, and I want you to apply it every two hours. Also, your vitals appear to be in the normal range for someone who has just gone through an ordeal similar to yours." He said as he handed Trip the cream.

Taking the cream from Phlox, Trip opened the lid, winching discretely when the force he had to use to open the lid disturbed his bruised ribs. While Trip rubbed the cream onto his decidedly scratched skin, Phlox again turned away to grab something from the cabinets. When he turned back, Trip was just finishing rubbing the cream over his arm.

"Lift up your shirt Commander. I am going to wrap your ribs with this bandage, it should help the bruising to heal faster." Phlox told Trip, who then preceded to carefully lift up his shirt. As Phlox tightened the bandage around his chest a small groan escaped Trip's lips. "I'm sorry Commander. The discomfort should fade in a day or two."

As Phlox stepped away Trip lowered his shirt and carefully got down from the bio-bed. "I recommend that you rest and take it easy with your ribs," Phlox said as he began putting away his medical instruments. "Sure thing, thank's Doc." Trip replied before he walked over to Captain Archer who was talking quietly with Malcolm.

"I'm gonna catch some shut-eye, then I may check in at Engineering Cap'n." Trip stated, being on that planet for only five hours had really worn him out. "That's fine Trip. Take it easy and I'll see you for dinner in the Captain's mess." Archer replied, still holding his arm close to his side. "Yes Sir. See ya then." Trip said before leaving Sickbay.

When he finally made it to his quarters, he collapsed onto his bed, beyond exhausted, forgetting to set an alarm for the reapplying of the cream that Phlox had given him. When he woke four hours later he was shivering violently, despite being fully clothed and under the covers.

His head was pounding and when he tried to sit up his vision grayed and dots began swimming in front of his eyes. Groaning he faintly wondered what was wrong with him. When he tried to stand and go to the comm, his knees suddenly buckled and he collapsed back onto the bed, barely missing the floor. A groan was forced through his lips when his ribs protested the jerky movements and he slowly succumbed to a fevered sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Three Days Too Die**

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own _Startrek: Enterprise_ or any of their characters.

 **A/N** : I've also made revisions to this chapter as well and I apologize for any misspelled words or grammatical errors. Thanks for reading :)

* * *

Gradually he realized that his arms stung. His head was pounding, it felt like someone was stompin' around in there. Groggily Trip sat up, vaguely he became aware that he wasn't freezing anymore. His ribs made themselves known when he threw the covers off, realizing that he moved from one extreme to the other, freezing cold to burning hot.

Carefully he wiped the sweat from his brow and slowly swung his feet to the ground. The stinging in his arms once again demanded his attention. Breathing slowly and deeply, he looked at the clock near his bed. _How could he have slept until nineteen hundred? He needed to get to Engineering… he should have checked in earlier… the Captain would be wondering why he wasn't at the Captain's Mess..._ As these thoughts passed through his foggy mind his body immediately protested.

No longer able to handle the stinging in his arms, he struggled to unzip and pull his arms out of his uniform. As he tied the arms of his uniform around his waist he became aware of the heat that was radiating from his body. Looking closely at his hands and arms he realized that he was covered in scratches that were read and angry looking.

"What in…the world!" He groaned as he carefully touched the area around one of the scratches on his arm. The stinging from earlier didn't compare to amount of pain he experienced when he touched the skin around the scratch. Gasping, he jerked his hand away, eliciting more protests from his ribs. With miserable resignation he knew that there was no way he could make it to Engineering, he didn't even think he could get his uniform back on.

With a groan he looked around his quarters. Spotting the cream from Phlox, he grabbed it and thought about applying it, but just shifting to pick up the cream caused pain to flair across his skin, he didn't want to find out what pain rubbing his skin would bring.

Carefully setting the cream back down, he glanced at the comm. He needed to let Phlox know what was going on. But just thinking about moving more than an inch or so had him sweating profusely.

When he shook his head subconsciously he immediately regretted it as the pounding that had faded came back with a vengeance. With a determination that he didn't know he possessed he knew that he had to get to the comm. Something was wrong with him and the only person who could figure it out was Phlox.

Taking in as deep a breath as he dared, he braced himself as he shifted his weight onto his feet. He was momentarily stopped when his senses were overcome by agonizing pain, almost causing him to black out.

Pushing through the sharp, breath stealing pain, he managed to take a step. Slowly and unsteadily he made his way to the comm on the wall near the door. By the time he made it four steps his skin was on fire, his head pounded harder, and he could feel his body shutting down.

Stumbling, he managed to sidestep and catch himself on the wall, as more pain overcame his system and his vision became distorted. With a groan he attempted another step, only to stumble again.

 _Breath_. He could hear T'Pol's voice in his head, the advice that she had given him during their neuro therapy. _Close your eyes. Relax, let your muscles breath._ Panting, he leaned heavily into the wall, attempting to even out his breathing. _Two more steps, you can do this,_ he thought as he prepared to take another step.

Suddenly his fevered mind was filled with images of T'Pol, the way she looked when she scolded him, trying to hide her emotions behind frowns and a refined posture. However, he'd seen those emotions escape her in fits of rage or passion, in an unknown look that he sometimes caught her giving him, a look that made him want to draw her close and never let her go, a look that made him feel as if she trusted him and maybe something more.

His mind was brought back to the present suddenly when his head hit the floor. Dazed, pain exploded all over his body. He heard and felt at least one rib crack. Phlox was not going to be happy. Groaning, which he seemed to do a lot of recently, he managed to slowly open his eyes.

The world was foggy and distorted, the blanket on his bed seemed to float in the air and the walls looked as if they were folding in on themselves. Vaguely he was aware that he was shivering again, the involuntary movements causing more pain to fill his senses. With another groan, he closed his eyes, welcoming the darkness that seemed to erase all his pain.

* * *

 _Finally, eighteen hundred and thirty, dinner time,_ Archer thought as he made his way to the Captain's Mess. Three hours of sleep, roughly three hours of work and he was starving. The pain medicine that Phlox had given him had made him drowsy, but his arm did feel better.

Stopping by the door, he allowed his mind to wander over all that had happened and all that he still needed to accomplish. His mind snapped back to the present when he heard someone call his name. Looking around he saw T'Pol approaching him.

Smiling, he greeted her, "It's good to see you up and about T'Pol, you had Trip and I worried there for a little bit. Won't you join me for dinner?" "Of Course Captain." However, upon stating her affirmation, T'Pol remained standing by the door.

"Is there something you want to tell me, T'Pol?" Archer asked patiently. Swallowing, T'Pol looked him in the eye, shoulders back. "I wanted to thank you for saving my life." She said, her tone emotionless, but the longer they shared eye contact, Archer could see how much she meant it. "You're welcome T'Pol." He finally responded before motioning for her to enter before him. Nodding, she preceded into the room.

"How are you feeling, T'Pol?" Archer asked as they began their meal. They had waited fifteen minutes for Trip, but eventually decided that he must have gotten caught up in Engineering. "I have a minor headache, however, I have relieved the pressure through meditation. I have also experienced slight nausea following my return to consciousness. Thankfully it has passed now and it seems that my appetite has returned." She answered as she ate a forkful of her dinner.

"That's good, if either Trip or I had been hit that hard in the head we'd still be nursing a huge headache and neither of us would be eating. Sometimes I forget how different our physiology is from yours."

Nodding her head, T'Pol responded, "That is understandable Captain, as our outward appearances do bear many similarities." Smiling to himself, Archer and T'Pol continued their meal. Their conversation shifting from one topic to the next throughout the course of their meal.

"Man, I am stuffed. I can't eat another bite." Archer said as he leaned back in his chair, "Chef really outdid himself this time. That was great." Archer rested one hand on his stomach. Wiping her mouth, T'Pol nodded, "I agree, something about this meal made it exceptionally good."

Setting his own napkin to the side of his plate, Archer looked over at T'Pol, "I wonder what kept Trip, he doesn't usually miss a meal. Have you had any contact with him since you left Sickbay?" "No, I haven't. It is rather unusual that he missed tonight's meal, especially since none of us had much to eat on the planet." T'Pol replied, as slight frown creasing her brow,

"What do you think would have kept him? The Doctor said that you both only maintained minor injuries and that each of you would be back to normal in a few weeks. Could it be something in Engineering that has had him occupied for so long?"

"Maybe. He's got me a little worried though, I'll comm Engineering when I get back to the Bridge." Archer said as he got up and, mindful of his arm, pushed his chair back under the table. "Actually Captain, I need to get some readings from Engineering, I don't mind checking to see if Commander Tucker is there." T'Pol said, also standing up.

"You should probably return to your quarters, I know for sure that Phlox would have a fit if you overdid it after such a hard hit to the head." Archer stated, grimacing when he thought of how Phlox would react to finding out that T'Pol was venturing all over the ship after such an injury.

T'Pol simply stared at him before replying, "My meditation has sufficiently reduced the effects of my concussion. Also, because my physiology is different from yours, I do not require the same amount of rest in order for my cognitive abilities to return to normal."

Realizing that this wasn't a battle he was going to win, he chuckled and replied, "Fine Sub-Commander, check and see if Trip is there. If he isn't, come get me, then we'll both start looking for him. T'Pol nodded then she and Captain Archer left the Captain's Mess, each heading to accomplish their respective duties.

Upon arriving in Engineering, T'Pol approached Ensign Sam Fezzo, who was busy completing a checklist. "Ensign, have you seen Commander Tucker?" T'Pol asked, coming to a stop behind him.

"No Ma'am, I haven't seen him since before y'all left for the planet. As a matter of fact, he was supposed to be here earlier, but he never showed. I figured the Captain had him doing something else." Sam responded, pausing from his work. "Should I be worried?" He asked, a slight frown coming over his features.

"I'm sure the Commander is fine. Thank you Ensign." T'Pol said then she turned to leave Engineering. "You're welcome Sub-Commander." Sam replied, turning back to his work, worry for Commander Tucker now taking root in the back of his mind.

T'Pol was feeling the same worry, something was nagging at her, Trip would call it her gut, but as a Vulcan she didn't get gut feelings. Shaking her head to clear it of human nonsense, she made her way to the Bridge.

Approaching the Bridge, T'Pol saw Archer stepping out of the lift. "Captain." She called out, walking towards him. "Did you find Trip?" Archer asked, noticing that she was alone and, for a Vulcan, looking worried.

"No, he was not in Engineering. Ensign Fezzo said that he hadn't seen Commander Tucker in Engineering since before we left for the away mission." T'Pol replied, now pacing slowly back and forth. Archer was sure that she was attempting to contain a fear that she would never admit she had.

"Has anyone checked his quarters? I remember him mentioning something about getting some shut eye before returning to work." Archer asked, searching his mind for any possible reason why his Chief Engineer wouldn't have reported to duty after resting, and also why he didn't show up for dinner in the Captain's Mess.

"I tried the comm, but there was no response from his quarters, Sickbay, the Armory, the Mess Hall, or the Docking Bay." T'Pol said, finally pausing in her pacing. "Perhaps he's in a deep sleep and hasn't heard the comm." Archer said, beginning to walk towards Trip's quarters.

Realizing where he was going, T'Pol followed him. Both were quiet as they allowed their worries to wander throughout their thoughts while they made their way to Trip's quarters.

Finally reaching Trip's door, Archer hit the door release and stepped into the room with T'Pol close behind him. Stopping abruptly, he barely missed stepping on the form on the floor. "Trip!" He cried out, instantly kneeling down beside his best friend.

Hearing the urgency in Archer voice, T'Pol rushed around him, silently cursing her gut, as Trip would call it. Upon seeing the pool of blood that surrounded Trip's head, she grabbed a towel from his bathroom.

"Commander Tucker, can you hear me?" She tried to keep her voice calm, but what she felt now was an emotion that she wasn't accustomed to and she was unsure how to handle it. Archer was shaking Trip's arm, attempting to get a response of any kind.

"Help me roll him onto his back, Captain." T'Pol said as she held the towel to the wound on his head. Grunting with effort, they managed to get him onto his back. Trip was covered in sweat and red, angry looking scratches were visible all over his skin.

Again T'Pol called out his name, this time his eyes fluttered and he began to shiver despite the heat that Archer could feel radiating from him. "He's running a fever, we need to move him back to the bed, T'Pol." Archer said before moving to carefully lift Trip from the ground, T'Pol following suit.

Struggling, they managed to lift him and make their way to the bed. T'Pol supported most of Trip's weight, as Archer only had one arm in working condition. Suddenly the ship lurched, almost causing them to lose their tedious grip on Trip, who only moaned and shivered more.

"Archer to the Bridge, what's going on up there?" He asked, doing all that he could to hold on to Trip's shivering form. The ship continued to lurch, making it even harder for them to get Trip onto his bunk. Glancing at T'Pol he could see that it wasn't any easier for her to lift Trip's unconscious form.

As the power flickered, Malcolm's voice came through the comm. "We're under attack, Captain. We've taken some damage, which is causing power outages throughout the ship. However, the shields seem to be holding."

Finally managing to get Trip settled on his bed, Archer and T'Pol stepped back with a sigh. "Okay, I'm on my way Lieutenant Reed. T'Pol, stay with Tucker, I need to get to the Bridge and find out why we're under attack." Archer said, moving his injured arm to rest against his side.

"Yes, Captain." T'Pol responded, already taking a seat in the only chair in the room. Archer paused for a second, taking the time to really look at T'Pol. He could see that despite what she had said she was still suffering from the blow to her head. Finished assessing her condition, he moved to the door, but he paused mid step and turned back to T'Pol, "Can you get Phlox to come take a look at Trip, he ne-"Archer was interrupted when Malcolm's voice again rang out over the ship-wide comm, "Incoming, everyone hold on!"

Archer barely had time to grab the side of the desk, as T'Pol jumped up from her seat and threw herself over Trip's unconscious form on the bed, attempting to keep him from further harm. An electric shock tore through the ship, momentarily shutting down systems and causing the artificial gravity to go off-line shortly before reengaging.

Slowly Archer stood up with a groan and carefully walked to the door. Hitting the release he waited from it to open. After a moment when nothing happened he tried again, and again, and again. After trying to open the door manually, a difficult task with only one arm in working condition, his frustration won out and he slammed his fist on the door.

"It's stuck. We're stuck." He said, defeat and frustration ringing in his voice as he stepped over to the comm, which was smoking and blinking red. Shaking his head, he turned back to T'Pol, who was still protectively draped over Trip. Their gazes locked as Trip moaned in his unconscious state and Archer knew that he and T'Pol were thinking the same thing. This was not gonna be good.


	3. Chapter 3

**Three Days Too Die**

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own _Star Trek: Enterprise_ or any of their characters.

 **A/N** : Thank you for taking the time to read my story, reviews are appreciated. Also, I apologize for any misspelled words or grammatical errors. Now, enjoy!

* * *

The ship continued to lurch as it absorbed the blasts from the oncoming attack. The gravity kept going in and out with the power. The door was still malfunctioning, Archer had tried several more times to open it, none of which resulted in the desired effect.

T'Pol was keeping a watchful eye on Trip, whose condition seemed to only be deteriorating. Thirty minutes had passed and comms were still down. "How's he doing, T'Pol?" Archer asked, finally settling back into the chair near the desk, which he had been holding onto when the artificial gravity acted up.

"He is still running a fever, in fact, it appears that his fever has risen. The scratches on his arms and chest appear to be infected. His head wound is no longer bleeding, but I believe that he will not regain consciousness for a while yet, Captain." T'Pol responded from her place on the edge of Trip's bed. She had remained there, holding onto him when the artificial gravity went out and making sure that he wasn't further injured when it suddenly came on again.

"I'm gonna see if I can pry one of these vents open. They're small, though, so you'll have to be the one to crawl through. Can you do it?" Archer asked T'Pol as he carefully moved over to one of the vents, keeping a hand on the desk in case the gravity acted up again.

"Yes Captain, I can try. But be mindful of your arm, I don't need to have another incapacitated man on my hands." T'Pol warned. Archer gave a small laugh, "Don't worry T'Pol, my arm feels great."

T'Pol could tell by the look on his face that he was lying and she just shook her head. Sitting beside the air vent Archer took a small flat object and began working the screws loose. He sat there for fifteen minutes while T'Pol continued to keep an eye on Trip's condition.

Thirty minutes later T'Pol noticed Trip moving his arm restlessly and slowly moving his head back and forth. "Captain, he's coming to." T'Pol said as she moved closer to Trip, gently wiping at his forehead with a wet cloth. "Trip…Trip can you hear me?" Archer asked anxiously as he rushed to the bed from where he'd been working on the vent.

Trip restlessly tossed his head back and forth, responsive to Archer's voice, but not conscious. "Trip, I need you to wake up," Archer said urgently, glancing at T'Pol as he again attempted to assess Trip's condition.

After a few more minutes Trip's eyelids fluttered and he moaned groggily. "C-capt'n?" He finally managed to get past his unbelievably dry throat. He was burning up and he knew that the fever was clouding his mind, confusing reality and unreality.

He couldn't tell if Archer was really there or not, also, he'd thought that he had heard T'Pol, but wouldn't she still be in Sickbay? Again he moaned, moving his head back and forth in an agitated manner.

Archer was tormented as he watched his friend's fevered mind fight for clarity. "It's okay Trip, T'Pol and I are gonna take care of you. Do you know what happened?" Archer carefully examined one of the many scratches on Trip's arm.

"I-I'm not sure…" Trip replied breathlessly, his expression one of confusion mixed with pain. Suddenly Trip cried out, jerking his arm away from Archer, who had accidentally touched it. The rough movement caused his head to pound harder and his ribs to scream at him, almost causing him to blackout.

T'Pol glared at Archer as she gently placed her hand on the side of Trip's face. "Breathe Trip, he didn't mean too, just breathe." Archer watched in amazement as Trip obeyed T'Pol, taking a labored breath.

There was something between them that he hadn't noticed before. "Trip, didn't Phlox give you something to put on those scratches?" T'Pol asked, her brow slightly furrowed. "I t-think he d-did…" Trip said, managing to fight back the encroaching darkness.

"Where did you put it?" Archer had never seen T'Pol be so gentle or caring. "I set i-it on t-the d-desk…I t-think." Trip said, shutting his eyes as T'Pol shifted on the bed and the sheets irritated his scratches. Settling back onto the bed beside Trip, T'Pol opened the container and began to smooth the salve over his arms. Trip stiffened in pain while Archer took the container from where she had sat it on the bed and placed it back on the desk.

The salve seemed to lessen the sensitivity of the scratches, but Archer could tell that Trip had to fight hard to not to show the pain that T'Pol's administrations caused. Finally finished with applying the salve, T'Pol went to the bathroom and got a glass of water for Trip to drink from.

Carefully lifting his head, Trip drank the water with gratitude. As T'Pol took the glass from his shaking hand the ship again lurched to one side, causing T'Pol to stumble and Archer to reach out and balance her.

"W-what's going o-on Capt'n?" Trip asked, his voice a little stronger, but still shaky. "I believe we're under attack," Archer replied as he and T'Pol steadied themselves. "Then w-why aren't you on t-the Bridge?" Trip wondered, his fevered mind trying to make sense of the information he was receiving.

"The doors stuck, we can't get out, and anyway, you need me here. I'm sure Malcolm can handle the bridge." Archer answered. "Oh no." Trip groaned. "What?!" Both Archer and T'Pol asked at the same time, worried that there was something wrong internally.

"I-if we survive t-this we'll have t-to s-spend the next m-month listenin' t-to Malcolm talk about h-how he s-saved the ship w-while we were t-trapped in my q-quarters." Trip answered, humor evident in voice despite the fact that his strength was diminishing. Both Archer and T'Pol sighed in relief before allowing themselves to chuckle at Trip's prediction.

Eventually Trip fell back into a fevered slumber and Archer returned to working on the vent. T'Pol seemed to be in deep contemplation as she looked over something on her scanner. Archer assumed that she had scanned Trip and was puzzled by the results.

Occasionally the ship would lurch or the lights flicker, causing Archer to pause and T'Pol to protectively place her hand over Trip's chest. Archer let out a frustrated growl when he pinched his hand as the seventh screw came out of the vent. Shifting his position on the floor, he looked at T'Pol, "This is gonna be a long night."

Silently T'Pol agreed. Looking up from her scanner and she glanced at Trip. "His condition hasn't changed. The salve helped to calm the irritated scratches, but they are still sensitive to touch and his fever hasn't diminished." She said, watching as Trip became more restless in his slumber.

"There's nothing we can do for him other than to keep him as cool as possible and keep applying that salve," Archer replied, moving to check the temperature of his best friend. T'Pol was right, his fever was just as high as before and he was still shivering slightly. Taking a break from working on the vent, Archer decided to rest his injured arm and sore fingers.

After getting another cool cloth from the bathroom, both he and T'Pol settled in for the night, deciding to take turns checking on Trip until Malcolm had things under control and decided to find out what had happened to the Captain.

* * *

About five grueling hours later there was a knock on Trip's door. "Captain Archer! Are you in there?" Asked C.S.T.O. Luke Mitchel from the hallway. They had been looking for the Captain for a little over an hour. Malcolm had finally managed to deter the attacking aliens and get the Enterprise into familiar space and had sent crews all over to repair the damage and look for the missing Science Officer, Chief Engineer, and Captain.

When there was no response from inside Commander Tucker's quarters Mitchel tried again, shouting louder. Finally, he heard shuffling, then Captain Archer responded, "We're in here, T'Pol, Tucker, and I are stuck, the door won't open! It was fried during the electrical shock from the first few hits we took!" Archer yelled back.

"Okay, we'll have you out in no time at all!" Mitchel shouted back before turning to one of his men. "I need you to remove the panel by the door, see if you can bypass the damaged section, if not then we'll have to open it manually." The man nodded and turned to get the tools needed.

"Hey, Trip, I need you to wake up," Archer said as he gently shook Trip's shoulder. Trip only moaned in response, over the last few hours he had become less and less responsive. Archer looked at T'Pol who was preparing to cover him with more salve. "See if you can wake him up, I'm gonna check their progress," Archer told her as he moved over to the door. "Trip, can you hear me?" T'Pol asked. The only response she got was a low moan and then the lights flickered and the artificial gravity gave.

Archer managed to grab onto the desk as T'Pol steadied herself by using the bed. Out in the hallway they could hear several groans as the men tried to keep their balance as they worked to get the door open.

"T'Pol?" Trip asked more confused than when he regained consciousness last time. "Yes Trip, I'm here, it's going to be okay," T'Pol said in her most reassuring voice. Trip's confused state worried her. Carefully she laid her hand on his shoulder as their eyes met.

The fever Trip was battling was clearly seen in his eyes. T'Pol almost missed the glint of panic that flashed across his face when he opened his mouth and his eyes rolled back into his head as his body began shaking uncontrollably. "Trip!" She cried, fighting to keep him from falling off of the bed.

Archer turned quickly at the sound of T'Pol's voice, "Captain, he's seizing! We have to get him to Phlox now!" He was shocked to see his best friend's body convulsing as his body and mind reacted to the fever. Turning back to the door, he yelled at the top of his lungs, "Mitchell! You have to get this door open now! Trip's not gonna last much longer without medical attention!"

When there was no immediate response he turned and rushed to Trip's side, hoping that Mitchell had heard him and was working double time. Trying not to think about the damage this seizure was doing, he did his best to help T'Pol keep Trip from further harm.


	4. Chapter 4

**Three Days Too Die**

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own _Star Trek: Enterprise_ or any of their characters.

 **A/N:** So, so sorry that it has take so long! I've had work, college...excuse, excuse, excuse...

Thank you all for your patience & reviews! I hope you enjoy chapter 4!

* * *

C.S.T.O. Luke Mitchel grunted with the effort of pushing the lever down that would manually open the door to Commander Tucker's quarters. The gravity, or lack thereof, was making the task extremely difficult. He and his men had to hold on to the walls until it kicked back in, then they would rush back to the door and get as many hands on the lever to push it down as they could.

The lever was stiff from lack of use and didn't want to budge. Finally, there was a loud crack and the lever was pushed into the open position. Mitchel and his team sighed in relief before grabbing the side of the door and pushing it open. It had been five long minutes since the Captain had told them Commander Tucker needed immediate medical attention.

The Captain and Sub-commander T'Pol blocked the view of Commander Tucker from the door. But they both moved aside when Mitchel's men hurriedly moved to transfer Commander Tucker to the gurney before the gravity went offline again.

"How is he, Captain?" Mitchel asked as he watched them rush an extremely pale and flushed Commander Tucker out of the room after quickly strapping him to the gurney. T'Pol grabbed the container of salve and rushed to follow them out of the room. "Not good. The seizure didn't last long, but he's delirious and his fever hasn't gone down. Phlox should be able to figure out what's causing this." Archer said as he rubbed his face wearily before following T'Pol out of the room.

Walking faster, as S.T.O. transferred Trip to Sickbay, Archer looked over at C.S.T.O. Mitchel who was following him at a brisk pace. "What time is it?" He asked.

"It's zero three hundred Captain." Mitchel replied, noting the absolute weariness on the Captain's face. "Zero three hundred?! When did the aliens finally back off?"

"A little over an hour ago. From what we can gather they were pirates or traders of some kind, they mistook a signal we sent out to be a distress signal and thought we would be easy pickings. Their first assaults were successful in delaying our response and they got bolder. Gradually upping their assault, they finally realized we were perfectly capable of holding our own and that we weren't backing down, I guess that was enough to cause them to double think their attack."

Shaking his head, Archer watched as they rushed Trip into Sickbay and Phlox took over. His relief over finally getting out of Trip's quarters and into Phlox's capable hands only made him more aware of how exhausted he was. He noticed that T'Pol was standing off to the side, watching as Phlox began his tests and administered anti-seizure medicine, with an emotionless stare frozen on her face. He couldn't believe that he had been blind to the connection she and Trip shared.

Archer's attention was jerked back to Trip when his best friend groaned loudly and Phlox moved to look in his eyes. "Can you tell me your name?" Phlox asked, Archer waited anxiously as Trip struggled to understand the question. Groaning, Trip closed his eyes again before whispering "T-tr-i-ip". Phlox visibly relaxed, willing to accept the nickname as a legit answer, and gave an encouraging smile in T'Pol's direction.

"Just relax Commander, I am running tests now. They should tell us what is causing your sudden seizures and other symptoms." Phlox said as he carefully began to examine Trip's scratches. Trip gave a faint nod, not quite understanding what Phlox had said, but perceiving that they were doing all they could and he was safe for the moment.

"I won't get the test results for another half-hour, Captain. I may also desire to run the tests again for clarity. Perhaps it would be best if you and T'Pol attempted to get some sleep. I will examine the results of the test and take care of Commander Tucker. You may return once you have received at least three hours of sleep." Phlox said, coming to stand in front of Archer.

Wearily, Archer looked at Trip. He didn't want to leave his friends side, but he knew that Trip was in capable hands, he himself needed some sleep, and as Captain he had other duties he would have to attend to. "Let me know if his condition chances. I'll check in around ten hundred hours." With that he turned to leave, he needed to check in at the Bridge and then he was going to grab some shut eye before he was needed again.

T'Pol stepped forward from where she had been standing off to the side. "I am going to stay here. I have no pressing duties to attend to."

"Sub-commander, it is almost zero three thirty. I believe that it is in your best interest to sleep for a solid three hours, if not more. I will take care of the Commander until you return to check on him." T'Pol opened her mouth to protest when Phlox placed a hand on her shoulder and began walking towards the door.

"It is best. He will be fine. I don't want to see you until after zero six hundred, am I understood Sub-commander?" Phlox looked at her sternly, obviously prepared to battle his logic against hers.

"Understood Doctor. But I will be back." She said with a resigned sigh. Despite her desire to stay with Trip she knew that Phlox was right. She needed to meditate and clear her mind, she needed to deal with these obnoxious human emotions that were trying to invade her Vulcan composure.

Nodding, Phlox again visibly relaxed and escorted her the rest of the way out of Sickbay before returning to his patient. Shaking his head, he muttered to himself, "How in the universe do you get yourself in these situations, Commander?" Of course Trip only moaned and moved his head from side to side, the medicine slowly reducing his fever, but he was obviously still feeling the effects of it. Sighing, Phlox moved to check him over again and make him as comfortable as possible.

* * *

Shaking his head, Phlox stared at the test results again. He had run the tests three times, all of which had proven unhelpful. It was some sort of infection, but also more than that. So far all he had been able to do was treat the symptoms, to little avail, but still. He couldn't believe that it had been two hours and he hadn't even found a cause. Taking a breath, he mentally reminded himself, "Optimism!", and looked at the results again.

Shaking his head, he moved to examine Trip's angry scratches. He'd already checked them over, but he figured it wouldn't hurt to check them again. Something was causing his fever which had caused the seizure and state of delusion. They only looked to have a minor infection, which he was treating. Perhaps there was some sort of toxin that was released into his blood stream from whatever had scratched him.

As Phlox moved to touch one of the more prominent ones, Trip jerked and moaned. Tossing his head from one side to the other he slowly blinked, attempting to open his eyes. His attention shifting from Trip's injuries to his mental state, Phlox moved to grab a few ice chips. He had hooked the Commander up to an IV, but with humans he had found that they often had a very dry mouth after being unconscious and ice chips helped to alleviate the dryness.

"How are you feeling, Commander?" He asked.

Trip only moaned again, swallowing the ice chips, seemingly unable to form a coherent sentence. His mind was cloudy and he had a headache. He also noticed that his arms still stung and his muscles ached. Where was he? He could hear someone speaking, but he didn't know what they were saying. We're they still on the planet? The voice didn't sound like T'Pol or Captain Archer…it was familiar, but strange at the same time.

Suddenly he felt a hand on his shoulder, reflexively he jerked away, only to immediately still as something applied unbearable pressure to his ribs. Vaguely he became aware that he was strapped down to something. Alarm bells rang in his foggy mind, something wasn't right, but he couldn't find the energy to do anything about it.

"It is for your own good, Commander." Someone above him said, that same familiar but strange voice. "Can you tell me how your muscles feel? Are you experiencing any pain?" Phlox asked. Trip didn't respond. Sighing, Phlox accepted that Trip wasn't in a state to tell him what other symptoms he might have, but as a Doctor he still had to try. "Commander? Can you hear me."

Faintly, Trip nodded, he didn't know who the strange voice belonged to, but he knew he needed to respond. Relieved to see acknowledgment, Phlox launched into another question, "Do your muscles hurt?" Again, Trip nodded, hating giving information to someone he didn't remember or know, but he figured his chances would be better if they knew how he was feeling.

When he didn't hear another question, he tried to open his eyes. They were like lead. When he finally got them open, what he saw didn't make much sense. Everything was distorted and dark, he could barely make out the shape of the person over him.

When Phlox saw that Trip's eyes were open, he could immediately tell that Trip wasn't seeing his surroundings correctly. He could tell that Trip's fever was distorting his mind's interpretation of Sickbay. When Trip got a panicked look on his face Phlox asked, "Do you know where you are?"

They sounded like they were actually interested in the answer, so Trip did his best to form a reply. "T-the Planet?" His guess came out in a hoarse voice, a voice he barely recognized as his own. He didn't hear an immediate response and thus believed his answer was correct. His next coherent thought made his heart pound uncontrollably.

"W-what have you done with the Capt'n?!" He asked, his hoarse voice straining as his heart began racing. Maybe Archer and T'Pol had gotten away. Had they left him behind? Surely not. They'd be back for him, if they did leave him behind, anyway. He had flashes of them running through the forest. He had tripped and then he was surrounded by the natives. Hadn't T'Pol been with him? There was something about a sharp bush that he had rolled through… Groaning, his head started throbbing violently and his memories became fuzzy.

"They are fine." Phlox tried to break through Trip's delirium. The machines monitoring his vitals began beeping at an alarming rate and Phlox again tried to reach Trip.

Trip could no longer hear the person who had been trying to talk to him, he felt like blood was rushing past his ears as doubts about Archer and T'Pol's safety plagued his weary and confused mind. His heart was racing as he moved against the restraints, determination giving him strength he didn't know he had.

"Commander! I need you to calm down, your putting too much strain on your body. If you do not lie still I am going to give you a sedative." Phlox watched as Trip continued to thrash his head about, he also noticed how, despite moving his arms, the Commander was careful to avoid moving his chest, which was strapped loosely to the bio-bed.

Trip struggled harder, momentarily forgetting about his ribs, when he blearily saw the person to whom the familiar but strange voice belonged come closer with something in their hand.

"Hold still Commander. You won't feel a thing." Phlox placed the injector, as carefully as he could amidst all the trashing, against Trips throat, injecting the sedative. Gradually Commander Tucker quieted down.

But he fought the drowsy feeling will all he had in him, for some reason he knew that he didn't have much time to figure all of this out and he didn't want to waste it being in blissful darkness.

Phlox watched as Trip fought the sedative before being overcome by the strong medicine. His head finally lying still as he rested in the drug induced slumber. Content that the Commander would stay in that state, Phlox went back to work trying to alleviate his symptoms while he found the source of the problem. Weary from all of the current events he knew that there was still a lot of work ahead of him. With a sigh, he continued his work.


	5. Chapter 5

**Three Days Too Die**

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own _Star Trek: Enterprise_ or any of their characters.

 **A/N:** Merry Christmas! I hope y'all enjoy this chapter! Thank you again for your comments and reviews!

* * *

T'Pol had rested as well as she could. She'd waited until she just couldn't lie still a moment longer, her logic told her that her worry was pointless, that it didn't contribute any measure of control to the situation and was thus a waste of energy on her part. But there was something in her that refused to listen to this logic, a part that didn't want to be cold and calculated. This emotional side scared her more than anything she had ever encountered before. Abruptly she broke away from her thoughts and made her way from her quarters to Sickbay, giving in to the unrelenting need to be by Trip's side.

Finally, after what seemed like a much longer time than usual, she entered Sickbay. Immediately she made her way to Trip's bio-bed, oblivious to Phlox as he checked on other patients. Trip was still sleeping, so she sat quietly beside him, gently taking his hand into her own.

To see him like this terrified her, another emotion that she typically had full control over. Something about Trip ripped through all of her control and caused her emotions to surface stronger than even when she was first learning to suppress them. For that very reason she had tried to stay away from him, but she was always drawn back, time after time, despite her logic and so-called control.

Movement from Trip jerked her from her troubled musings and she quickly let go of his hand. "T'Pol." He mumbled weakly, eye lids moving furiously as he tried to force them open.

"It's okay Commander." She said hastily, trying to keep all emotion from her voice, wondering if he'd known she was here or if it was just a coincident.

"Doctor Phlox, it appears the Commander is waking up." She called out to Phlox, who turned from his work to assess the situation. As he reached the bio-bed, Trip was extending a trembling hand towards T'Pol, who grasped it carefully.

"T-t'pol? Are y-you hur-rt?" He asked, his breathing labored. "No, Commander, I am fine. We are safe." T'Pol replied, squeezing his hand slightly, greatly relieved that he was cognizant. Trip nodded weakly when he heard her say she was fine, but he zoned out before she finished speaking, his mind still trying to piece things together.

When he realized that he had zoned out, he fought his way back to the present moment, head still pounding and body protesting every breath. "T-tell Archer I-I'm sorr-ry." He ground out between labored breathes.

"For what Trip?" T'Pol slipped and used his nickname, more worried about why he was apologizing than keeping her now rampant emotions in check. "F-for holding us b-back… getting u-us captured…" he mumbled, moving uncomfortably, guilt clouding his fevered eyes.

Phlox moved into Trip's line of sight and placed a comforting hand on T'Pol's shoulder. Suddenly the monitor connected to Trip began to beat faster. T'Pol looked back at Phlox, confused as to what was happening, before looking franticly back to Commander Tucker.

Trip must have misunderstood her confused expression and thought she was frightened because he instantly jerked her hand, with more strength than she thought possible, and pulled her away from Phlox. He grunted in pain and feverishly glared at Phlox. "Don't touch her!" He yelled with as much force as he could muster.

Phlox stepped back, confused momentarily before he realized what was happening. He moved back farther and whispered to T'Pol, "He believes that he is still on the planet. I believe that whatever is wrong with him has altered his memory of the last twenty-four hours."

T'Pol moved closer to Trip, trying to relieve the tension, and whispered back, "What do we do?" Phlox watched as Trip's grip on T'Pol loosened, his body weak from whatever was attacking him. "Perhaps you could attempt to tell him that we are on the Enterprise and that the Captain is okay. He may be more inclined to listen to you."

T'Pol nodded, looking down at Trip, who was still doing his best to glare at Phlox, unaware of their previous exchange. "Trip, it's okay." His eyes darted between her and Phlox. When he didn't respond in any other way, she continued, "We are on the Enterprise, the Captain is fine. We are okay." When she finished she glanced back at Phlox and saw that he was staring intently at the monitor that was still beating at an alarming rate.

Trip was puzzled, something was wrong, he knew it. His surroundings were still a little fuzzy, all that he could clearly make out was T'Pol… and whoever the figure behind her was. When he'd seen the hand on her shoulder and the look on T'Pol's face, he just knew that the figure meant trouble. His pounding head and his frustration at not being able to clearly grasp the situation were not helping to make things any clearer.

Trip's wearied mind finally registered T'Pol's statement that the Captain was fine, and his breathing began to slow down, but then he caught sight of her anxious glance to the figure behind her and a whole new suspicion took root.

His mind instantly started racing, _why was she glancing anxiously behind her? Why hadn't the figure introduced themselves, if they were actually safe? Why wasn't Archer here?_ All of these thoughts rushed through his mind, leaving him with one coherent thought. _The natives of the planet are using Archer as leverage to get T'Pol to trick him into feeling safe so that they can exact information, get revenge for being insulted, or whatever was going on in their crazy alien brains._

Trip swore to himself that he would never thank an alien woman for anything ever again, it was just too much trouble. With a tremendous amount of energy, he realized that T'Pol had started speaking again, but he was unable to comprehend what she was saying as his mind was suddenly preoccupied by a terrible pain.

His arm suddenly felt as if it was on fire, little tiny fires that burned and stung whenever he moved. Managing to slightly lift his head, he did his best to determine what was causing the pain. The red, angry looking scratches that covered his arms briefly brought back a memory of him in his quarters. However, the memory was distorted and seemed out of place.

When he couldn't hold his head up any longer, he allowed it to fall back onto whatever he was lying on. But the movement caused more pain to flair across his midsection, he'd never imagined that this much pain was possible, and he groaned in agony. The pounding in his head was increasing and all he could think about was how much he wished for something cold to lessen the terrible heat.

Phlox watched with interest as Trip lifted his head and examined himself. He hoped that somehow T'Pol had been able to get through to him, to help him better understand what was going on. However, his hopes were dashed slightly when Trip stopped responding to her. He was further concerned when Commander Tucker dropped his head back onto the bio-bed and an agonizing groan escaped his lips.

When Trip continued to groan, Phlox stepped forward to adjust the amount of pain medicine that he was giving the Commander. He was caught off guard by Trip's sudden reaction to his movement. The Commander jerked, causing himself more pain, and again reached for T'Pol, having let go of her hand when he appeared to be examining his arms.

Trip didn't know what was going on, as anything T'Pol said sounded as if it were coming through ten carbon filters. When the figure continued to advance, having paused momentarily, he knew that he had to do something. He realized that whatever he could do would be limited, but he didn't get to where he was in life without pushing the limits.

 _Which may or may not be part of the problem,_ he thought grimly to himself amidst the pain and pounding. In one swift move he made to sit up, forgetting about the restraints that were still loosely around his chest. He'd managed to pull T'Pol away from the figure and out of the line of danger, but before he could reach a full sitting position from which to strike the figure, the restraints made themselves known and he was jerked unmercifully back.

But, again, his desire to protect T'Pol and find the Captain superseded his need for self-preservation. He continued to struggle as the figure, which he was now sure was an alien, came closer still. The alien's hands were extended, but Trip didn't trust that their intentions were good. His suspicions were confirmed when the alien began speaking in an agitated and angry tone of voice.

"Commander, I need you to relax, you are only hurting yourself." Phlox stated, slight agitation creeping into his voice, an overflow of the frustration and confusion he was feeling in response to Commander Tucker's predicament. When the Commander continued to struggle, Phlox was left with no choice.

"I am sorry, Sub-Commander T'Pol, I must sedate him for his own protection." Phlox moved to grab the needed medicine. T'Pol looked at Trip, who was still struggling. He had pulled her away from Phlox with a strength she didn't know he possessed in his current state. She understood what Phlox had to do, as her worry for Trip was growing with every grimace and ragged breath that he breathed.

Carefully, despite Trip's valent efforts, Phlox managed to inject Trip with a sedative. It didn't take long for it to take effect. Trip fought with all he had, but ultimately, he was no match for the sedative and his body's desperate need for rest.

When he had finally fallen into a drug induced slumber, Phlox breathed a little easier. "Thank you for stopping by T'Pol. I apologize for what you just witnessed, the Commander is confused and disoriented." T'Pol just shook her head, resigned to what the Doctor had to do, but wishing that there was another way to get through to Trip.

"Understandable, Doctor. You did what you could and what needed to be done." T'Pol said, doing her best to let Phlox know that she didn't blame him.

"Please let me know if he awakens or if I am needed for any other reason." T'Pol said, before nodding and leaving Sickbay, her shoulders straight with determination, which Phlox recognized as her attempting to keep her emotions in-check. What Phlox missed as she hurried on her way was a single, forbidden tear stealing its way down her cheek.

* * *

"How is he, Phlox?" Archer asked as he strode into Sickbay some hours after T'Pol had left. "I'm afraid he isn't doing as well as I'd like, Captain." Phlox answered as he turned to face the Captain. "T'Pol came by earlier, her timing was perfect as the sedative I had previously given him was about to wear off. At first, he seemed receptive to her, but then he became troubled and delirious, I had no choice but to sedate him again. In his delirious state, he was only hurting himself."

Nodding with a solemn look on his face, Archer walked to stand beside Trip's bio-bed. He noted how pale Trip was. Other than that, his condition appeared to be the same as it had been earlier, minus the seizures. "Has his fever dropped at all, Doctor?"

"No, I'm afraid it hasn't. I am keeping him hydrated and we have already gone through several ice packs. I hope that his fever will take care of whatever is causing this." Phlox said, adjusting something in Trip's IV.

"You mean your tests haven't revealed anything?" Archer asked anxiously. He'd thought that Phlox would have figured it out by now.

"No, they haven't. I have only been able to treat the Commander's symptoms and keep him as comfortable as possible. However, his body is becoming more and more fatigued. His brain is also showing unusual activity. I believe that whatever he is suffering from is also a hallucinogen."

"Is there anything that I can do?" Archer asked, his worry for his friend once again evident in his voice. Gently he placed his hand on Trip's shoulder. "I'm sorry Captain, all that is to be done is to wait on the other tests I am running and see if any new symptoms began to display themselves. Hopefully the symptoms will lead me to the cause."

Archer was about to respond when he noticed that Trip's breathing had become irregular. "Phlox, when was that sedative supposed to wear off?" He asked, his full attention now on Trip. "Actually, it wore off fifteen minutes ago, the Commander has been resting on his own. Why do you ask, Captain?"

"Something's not right."

Phlox turned back to the Commander, moving to check his vitals and responses. "This is strange." He stated as he flashed a light in Trip's eye, the pupal not dilating. After checking a few other things, Phlox turned solemnly to face Archer. "It appears that the Commander has fallen in to a coma."

"What? Why? How bad is the coma? What's causing it?" Archer stopped to breathe before opening his mouth to ask more questions when one of Phlox's machines beeped.

Ignoring Archer's questions, Phlox hurried to the machine and looked at the screen. "This is intriguing." Phlox said, examining the results and trying to figure out what it was about this situation that suddenly seemed familiar to him.

"Of course!" Phlox suddenly exclaimed, shaking his head, it was all coming together. Quickly he moved back to Trip's side and began examining his arm. Finally, he knew what needed to be done, he knew how to save the Commander.

"What is it?" Archer asked anxiously. He was almost too afraid to believe that the Doctor had good news, as he didn't want to have his hope crushed. Trip meant a lot to him, he had stuck by his side when many others abandoned him. His sense of humor often helped Archer to relax and his intelligence helped Archer gain a new perspective on many different issues. There were so many things about Trip that contributed to their bond as brothers and as friends, that Archer didn't have the words to describe it all. Trip's friendship was invaluable.

After a moment, Phlox began speaking, "Well, Captain, it appears that Commander Tucker has been poisoned by a rare toxin. I am familiar with this toxin only because we encountered in on my planet. That was many, many years ago. But, as this predicament exhibits, it appears that the rare toxin reacts differently with different species. That must be why I was unable to recognize it at first." Phlox explained, again lost in his thoughts.

"Well what can you do? Do you know of an antidote?" Archer asked, relieved that they were finally making some headway, but still alarmed that they were dealing with some kind of toxin.

"The only antidote there is has to be made from the toxin's origin." Phlox said, a grave look coming across his features.

"That means we have to go back to the planet, doesn't it?" Archer asked, leaning wearily against the bio-bed beside Trip's own bed.

"It would appear so, Captain." Phlox answered unnecessarily. "How long can his body withstand the toxin?" Archer asked reluctantly.

"I'm afraid his body will only be able to hold out until tomorrow evening. From my knowledge of what we encountered on my planet, the toxin takes about three days to...eliminate...the subject. However, it is reacting differently to this species, so it may be more time…or it may be less."

"Thank you, Doctor." Archer said, before moving to the comm in Sickbay. "Archer to the Bridge."

"Yes, Captain?" Mayweather responded, curiosity, but not urgency, in his voice.

"I need you to turn the ship around. We have to go back to the planet. Full speed Ensign."

"Yes Sir." Came his response, a sense of urgency now taking root in his voice, across the comm as Archer moved back to Trip's bedside.

"Phlox, will the coma affect his chances?" Archer asked hesitantly, again taking in Trip's condition. His brow creased in worry as he awaited the Doctor's response.

"Actually Captain, I believe the coma may help. Theoretically, it will give his body a chance to rest. However, it has yet to be determined exactly what the mind does while in this state. Since this toxin does have hallucinogenic tendencies, he could be caught up in a dreamlike experience." Phlox responded, moving to again check Trip's vitals.

Archer sighed, _perhaps the coma is a good thing_ , he thought to himself. Then his thoughts took a dark turn. "How likely is it that he will wake up from this coma?" He hesitantly asked Phlox.

"It…is hard to say. It could be hours…or it could be days. Much will depend on the cure to the toxin."

Archer nodded solemnly before taking a seat beside Trip's bed. "I have a few free moments before I need to inform my officers of what's happening. I'd like to spend them here. If you could gather all the information that you could about this toxin, the climates in which it grows, etc., I am going to have T'Pol examine the data from the planet and determine where a safer zone would be for us to gather it from."

"Yes Captain." Phlox said before walking to another part of Sickbay. Archer turned his thoughts back to Trip. Knowing that these next few hours would be vital to the planning of the retrieval of the antidote and saving Trip's life, he wanted to spend just a few minutes by his friend's side. He felt a renewed urgency and time with Trip, even if he was in a coma, was more precious now that he knew it might be running short.

Pushing thoughts of an hour glass running out of sand to the side, he refused to give up hope. He knew that getting the antidote was going to be difficult, and that the coma complicated things…but Trip was a fighter, this wasn't the end. He clasped Trip's hand in his own, resting his head on their hands. Breathing slowly to calm his racing heart, he just sat there, lost in his memories and praying that everything worked out, well aware of the odds that they faced.

After a few moments had passed, he took a fortifying breath and stood, mentally preparing himself to get everything in order to save his best friend's life. This was going to be another long night. Ignoring the soreness of his own injury, he walked out of Sickbay with one last look at Trip and a prayer sent heavenward for his best friend's life.


	6. Chapter 6

**Three Days Too Die**

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own _Star Trek: Enterprise_ or any of their characters.

 **A/N:** So, so, sorry that it has taken me so long to write another chapter! This story is definitely still alive and I plan to keep working on it until it's finished! Thank you for leaving reviews, they definitely boost my motivation! Please enjoy :)

* * *

The atmosphere on the Bridge was tense to say the least. Archer had announced to the whole ship that they were returning to the planet and had discussed his plan in detail with T'Pol, Malcom, and the retrieval team. Worry for Trip and a sense of urgency was at the forefront of all of their minds.

They had been traveling for hours and it was only just now eighteen hundred. They still had roughly an hour to reach the planet. Archer was aware that they were cutting it close, but they were traveling as fast as they could.

As it was, they would reach the planet at night and hopefully be able to get in and out quickly, with little to no trouble from the locals. They would fly in as fast as they could while staying under the radar.

Malcolm was in charge of planning out the stealth mission to find the plant using T'Pol's calculations to mark the search field. Phlox was working to tend the remaining patients in Sickbay and battle Trip's symptoms, which were still affecting his body even though he remained in the coma.

Everything was coming together, now they just had to wait. After double checking with Malcolm and T'Pol that they were handling their parts, Archer made his way to his quarters. There was nothing more he could do and he really needed a shower.

The water was warm and stung his injured arm, but he could feel his muscles relax and the tension in his shoulders give to the flow of the water. A little less than 24 hours ago they had been stuck in Trip's quarters, worried that he was going to die in their arms, now they were hurrying up to wait, worried that he is going to die in Sickbay.

Archer let out a frustrated sigh, he didn't know how much more he could take. Leaning his head against the wall, he fisted and un-fisted his hand. _Why did this have to happen to Trip? How did they not catch it before it got this bad? My best friend is in a coma for land's sake!_

And here he was, helpless, powerless. Trip was supposed to be giving him crap from Engineering, not laying comatose in Sickbay. Trip was supposed to be the one telling him that he was pushing the engines too hard, that he was worrying too much, that this was the adventure of their lives.

Instead, the silence from Engineering was deafening. The worry overwhelming, and the adventure of their lives seemed as if it would cost Trip his. But Archer was the Captain. He had a job to do. _Trip isn't dead yet and I don't plan to let him get there anytime soon_ , Archer thought to himself, determination firmly planted in his heart.

They were going to save Trip. His best friend would not die this way. With his thoughts firmly set on saving Trip, and all other possibilities pushed to the far recesses of his mind, he stepped out of the shower, got dressed, and made his way to Sickbay.

He was going to spend what time he could at Trip's side and then he was going to go get the cure and save his best friend's life. Then, Trip was going to wake up, make some smart remark about having just had the best sleep of his life and everything would go back to normal.

Any other outcome was unacceptable and therefore promptly thrown out of the Captain's mind before he reached the doors of Sickbay.

Arriving in Sickbay, he quietly walked to Trip's bed and sat beside him. Trip's skin was still radiating heat, but his breathing sounded better to Archer's untrained ears. Phlox was still milling about between other patients and it looked as if several monitors were displaying the results of this test or that.

Despite the hustle of Phlox around Sickbay and the occasional groan, it was pretty quiet. Archer could hear the hum of the life-saving machines and was surrounded by the smell of a sterile environment.

Attempting to distract himself from more morbid thoughts, Archer began to think about the plan and how everyone had reacted as they worked to put it together. For some reason, T'Pol in particular stuck out in his mind.

Something was different with her. She seemed quieter, but not only quieter, she seemed almost worried. Archer knew that Vulcans had emotions, even if they didn't show them, but he had never seen T'Pol express an emotion and was surprised at how strange she was acting.

T'Pol was one of the most self-controlled people that he knew, so whatever she was feeling must be extremely strong in order for it to be seeping through her walls.

As his eyes came to rest on Trip, he suddenly realized how much of an idiot he was. He had originally thought that her emotions were out of check because they were all under a lot of stress and sleep deprived.

However, the more he thought about it, the more sense it made that her emotions were connected to Trip's condition. She'd been acting weird ever since they were locked in Trip's quarters. He couldn't believe that he hadn't recognized this sooner. Yes, he was tired, still injured, and under the pressure of saving his best friend's life, but he still should have seen the now very obvious connection between the two.

Eventually his shock at how blind he was dissipated, and he knew that, as Captain, he should be strict on this matter. But he just couldn't bring himself to disapprove of their feelings and where that might lead them. He'd known Trip had feelings for T'Pol, especially when he had fought so hard not to like her. He'd seen the moment that Trip had stopped fighting his feelings, but he'd never believed they would develop into what they are.

And to see it reciprocated blew his mind. Not that Trip wasn't worthy of T'Pol, or that there was no way they could fall in love, just that T'Pol and Trip are so different. T'Pol is reserved, factual, and rule-focused, while Trip is an extrovert, he follows his gut more than the facts, and he doesn't always follow the rules, especially when he can bend them.

Archer almost smiled as he thought about how their opposite natures would definitely make for an interesting relationship. Then his desire to smile faded as another thought pushed its way through his mind.

…If Trip lived long enough to have one.

Quickly pushing that thought as far away as he could, Archer shook his head. Trip has so much to live for that there is no way that this infection or whatever it is will get the best of him. Trip will live and he will get to see his feelings for T'Pol returned in full force. No if ands or buts about it.

Just then T'Pol walked into Sickbay.

"Captain, everything is ready. We should be arriving at the planet in ten minutes." T'Pol addressed the Captain as she approached, but her eyes were glued to Trip's comatose figure.

Her tone remained neutral, but the amount of emotion in her eyes betrayed the picture of self-control that she was attempting to hold on to.

Standing, Archer placed a hand on her shoulder. "Thank you, T'Pol."

Looking at Trip, Archer slightly squeezed her shoulder in comfort, "He'll be okay. Trip is the strongest willed man I've ever met."

Nodding, T'Pol didn't meet Archer's eyes. "I'll see you on the Bridge" Archer stated before leaving Sickbay and Trip. Hoping against hope that this wasn't the last time he would get to see his best friend alive.


	7. Chapter 7

**Three Days Too Die**

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own _Star Trek: Enterprise_ or any of their characters. I just enjoy writing about them.

 **A/N:** Thank you all so much for the kind reviews! I am so glad you're enjoying this story! I had some extra time to work on this story due to Hurricane Florence. I hope that everyone affected by the hurricane is doing well and that there isn't to much material damage!

Now, please enjoy!

* * *

T'Pol only remained in Sickbay for a few seconds after the Captain left for the shuttle pod. Her mind was in a swirl between unknown and unbidden, heaven forbid, feelings and the logic to which she was so desperately clinging.

Commander Tucker had really managed to entwine himself in her life. He challenged her and she him. T'Pol had time and again found his perspective to be intriguing and had used his advice on many occasions.

As she had also seen him use hers. Over the last two nights, she had… missed… their neuro-pressure sessions. Time with Trip had become something she looked forward to, despite her desperate resistance.

So far, she had managed to hide these growing and troubling… emotions. But now her restraint was almost at its end. Seeing him in this manner, helpless, lost, at death's door, as many crewmen were saying, was doing something to her that she couldn't explain or comprehend.

Her logic was failing her. She knew that it was illogical to fall in love with an emotional human, but her heart rejected the logic and fell anyway. She knew it was illogical to hope that such feelings would be return, but yet she found herself hoping against hope.

It was also illogical to believe that such an interspecies relationship would be smiled upon by her superiors, but she found that more and more she cared less about the consequences.

Finally reaching the Bridge, she once more broke from her troubling thoughts and once again assured the Captain that the coordinates for the plant had been uploaded to their sensors and that the locals should be a great distance away from their landing zone.

As the Captain, Malcolm, and the away team disappeared into the atmosphere of the planet, T'Pol did her best to stop thinking about Trip. She tried to only see the planet and monitor her scans instead of Trip's deep intelligent blue eyes.

She tried to listen to the conversations floating back and forth across the Bridge instead of hearing Trip's laugh and deep southern voice.

Suddenly, she quietly groaned aloud, causing Hoshi to look at her from her station.

"Sub-Commander?" Hoshi asked, worry and curiosity evident in her tone, "Are you alright?"

Looking over at Hoshi with an emotionless face, T'Pol replied in a clipped voice, "I am fine."

Taking a step back from her station, T'Pol addressed Mayweather, "Ensign Mayweather, you have the Bridge. I will be in my quarters. Notify me if the Captain makes contact."

With that, Mayweather and Hoshi watched as T'Pol made a swift, yet graceful exit from the Bridge. As the door slid closed, they looked at each other and shared a puzzled look.

Neither of them had figured out the Vulcan yet. But they had their suspicions that her behavior had everything to do with Trip's condition.

In her quarters, T'Pol lit a candle. She desperately needed to meditate. She could feel her body reacting to the emotional turmoil she was in and knew that she needed to focus on calming her mind. Taking a deep breath, she straightened her shoulders and began to let the tension fade. Her thoughts still roamed to Trip, as they ever did, but after some time she was able to suppress them long enough to clear her mind momentarily.

* * *

Down on the planet, Archer, Malcolm, and the rest of the away team were searching for the plant. Darkness was vastly approaching, but they were all focusing on getting to the location of the plant.

Their landing had been a little rough, as some unaccounted-for wind had caused trouble for the shuttle pod. When they were finally able to make contact, they realized they had moved off course. Now they were running to make up time.

They were all armed but had no need for other things to load them down, so they traveled light. Their night vision lenses would soon be necessary. Looking at his scanner, Archer realized they still had a few kilometers to go before they reached the plant's habitat.

Given the last encounter with the locals, Archer was constantly on the lookout for surprises. The last thing they needed right now was to run into any trouble. According to Phlox's calculations, Trip's body, even in the coma, could only withstand another day.

Which meant that they needed to be back on the ship as soon as possible. Technically, they had about 23 hours before Trip came to the end of the third day with this toxin in his system. But Phlox didn't know how long the antidote would take to combat the toxin.

And he didn't know how much damage would be done if they pushed it. Therefore, all haste was being made. Finally, 30 minutes later they reached the area where the plant was supposed to be.

Unfortunately, in the dark, even with the lenses, the foliage was hard to separate. Shaking his head in frustration, Archer wished they could catch a break. His best friend's life is at stake here.

Tediously, they kept searching. If felt like hours were passing by and Archer was getting more anxious by the minute.

"Malcolm!" Archer called out in a hoarse whisper, "Have you found anything yet?"

"No, Sir. But we must be getting close!" Malcolm shout-whispered back, "We've covered most of the ground in the area that T'Pol mapped out. There are only a few more sections that we haven't searched."

"What time is it Malcolm?" Archer asked, bending over to check the thick foliage to his left.

"It's twenty hundred hours and fifty-seven minutes, Captain," Malcolm answered, still diligently searching through the foliage.

"Tell the men to double their efforts, Trip can't wait much longer!" Archer said, frustration seeping into his voice as he picked up his pace and held his scanner to the next plant.

Another negative reading. Doubt began to plague him. Perhaps T'Pol had miscalculated.

"We'll find it, Captain." Malcolm said. Archer took comfort in his armory officer's projected confidence and pushed his doubts aside.

T'Pol knew what she was doing. They just have to keep looking.

* * *

Back in Sickbay, Phlox again checked Trip's vitals. He wasn't one to look at the gloomy side of things, but Trip's body was growing weaker. His breathing had become shallower and the toxin was definitely affecting his mind.

Even though he was in a coma, his brain waves were all over the place. Phlox was sure that he was having some very violent dreams.

Doing what he could to make Trip comfortable, Phlox then turned to his other patients. The Commander's fate rests in his will to live and the hands of his Captain. Still, Phlox wished there was more he could do, seeing Trip in the manner was unsettling in the least.

Trip himself was vaguely aware of voices and movement. But somehow it was distorted. Somethin' wasn't connecting right. He tried to move, but it was like he was paralyzed.

What had those crazy aliens done to him? Where was the Capt'n, T'Pol? His mind scrambled to make sense of everything.

Suddenly he was standing before a door. It was greyish and looked rough. The room he was in was dark, but there was light peeking out from under the door. Slowly, as if moving through water, he walked towards the door.

His ribs protested and he put his hand to his side, hoping to stop the discomfort. His arm stung when he moved it, but in the dark, he couldn't see anything. Unexpectedly, the closer he got to the door, the colder he got.

It felt like it was winter, and someone had left the door open. Shivering, he reached for the panel beside the door. Pushing the button, the door slid open. As he stepped into the light, he was shocked to see that it was just another room.

But this room had bars instead of a wall and there was a chair in the middle of the room. The sound of screams soon reached his ears. Forgetful of his ribs, he rushed to the bars on the other side of the room.

"Hey!" He yelled, straining to see through the bars. He didn't know where he was or what was going on, but he couldn't just stand there and listen to someone's screams.

Slowly a figure approached from out of nowhere, but the screams continued.

"What are you doing to them?" He asked, anger in his voice. He tried to make out the figure, but the light above him was too bright and the area the figure stood in too dark, his eyes couldn't adjust.

"That is none of your concern." They responded, their voice tainted with an unfamiliar accent. "You, Commander, should only be worried about yourself." The figure then pressed a button on some handheld device.

The next thing Trip knew he was on his knees, electricity zapping through his body.

"Ahhhh!" He screamed, gasping for breath and holding his side. Then the door to what he now believed to be a cell opened. Two other figures rushed in and grabbed his arms, oblivious to the scratches which were making themselves known, and sat him roughly in the chair.

"W-what do you w-want." Trip asked breathlessly, his head tilted forward as he tried not to pass out. Again he heard screams coming from what he assumed to be other cells. Faintly, he recognized one of the screams as coming from Archer.

Gritting his teeth, he tried to look square at the figure, but they were still standing in the shadows. He couldn't make out what species they were. The figure just stood there. Archer's screams again reached his ears and Trip did his best to fight the hands holding him to the chair.

He struggled despite the pain, but it was of no use. He couldn't get free of their grip. Grunting, he attempted to speak, but no words would come out of his mouth.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the figure spoke.

"Where is it?" They asked, their accented voice agitated and impatient.

"Where i-is what?" Trip asked, finally getting his voice to work, his tone confused and agitated. What could he possibly have that they would want?

"Why can't we find it?" The figure asked with more force behind their words.

"I don't know what you're talkin' about." Trip shook his head, trying his best to figure out what they wanted.

Sighing, the figure made a motion or signal and the other figures who had been standing behind him stepped around. At some point, the light must have moved, because now it was shining directly behind their backs and he couldn't stand to look at them.

For a second, they just stood there, then the one on the right stepped forward. Trip thought at first that he might ask another question, but he quickly realized that that was not what was intended.

Swiftly, Trip received a blow to the head, jerking him from one side of the chair to another. Another quickly followed the first, this one landing squarely on his chin. Spitting blood, he tried to form a question but was interrupted by another blow.

Grunting, he rolled his eyes, "You fellas should really learn to ask more detailed questions." The last of his statement came out as a whisper, but by the chuckles from his torturers, he knew they heard him.

 _Well, at least they have a sense of humor._

Suddenly, another blow to the head knocked all thoughts from his mind. He felt his skin tear and blood began seeping down his face.

Doing his best to remain conscious, Trip fought to breathe through the pain, but the next blow was too much, and everything faded, the screams from the other cells still ringing in his ears.


	8. Chapter 8

**Three Days Too Die**

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own _Star Trek: Enterprise ..._ but I really wish I did.. that would be totally awesome!

 **A/N:** I am so very sorry that I haven't posted in a while. But, as an early Christmas treat, here are two more chapters!

Now, please enjoy!

* * *

"Yes!" Archer called out suddenly. It had only been a few minutes since Malcolm had told him they would find it and Archer had decided that T'Pol had known what she was doing.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Archer believed they finally seemed to be catching the break they needed so badly.

"Sir?" Malcolm stopped searching through the plant life and rushed over to Archer's side.

"It's here! This is the plant. Help me dig it up, it's probably best to bring Phlox the whole thing." Archer said, getting to his knees as he removed the dirt from around the plant's roots.

"Careful not to cut yourself, I don't need more than one sick crewmember," Archer grunted out to Malcolm as they both worked to uncover the plant.

Once it was uncovered, they removed it from the ground and set it in the container Phlox had provided.

"Archer to Mitchel" Archer spoke into his comm as he and Malcolm stood up.

"Mitchel here, Captain," Mitchel replied as he stood up, his back protesting since he and the rest of the away team had been hunched over searching through the wildlife for over an hour.

"I've found the plant. Get the rest of the away team and head to the shuttle pod."

"Yes, Sir," Mitchel responded before he silently moved about to gather up the rest of the team.

They quickly recovered the ground they had previously covered and spotted Archer and Malcolm before the shuttle pod came into sight.

"Captain" Mitchel acknowledged as they began jogging beside each other.

"Mitchel" Archer said, his eyes forward, scanning the dark terrain for the shuttle pod.

Following his Captain's lead, Mitchel focused on preserving his energy until they reached the shuttle pod.

They hadn't been running for long when suddenly someone behind Mitchel called out in pain. Everyone stopped in their tracks and silently ducked for cover.

The sounds of a body being dragged was the only thing that could be heard by all the members of the away team.

Archer was straining his eyes as he looked through the night vision lenses. Finally, he was able to make out a figure moving behind a tree.

"Mitchel," He whispered, as he quietly made his way over to Mitchel's side, "it's the locals. Where there is one there are typically many more. They travel in packs. Here, take the plant and keep your eyes peeled, I'm gonna go see who we're missing."

"Yes Sir, I'll keep the rest moving toward the shuttle pod." With a nod, they moved in opposite directions. As Archer passed Malcolm, he tapped his arm and motioned for him to follow.

Carefully, they followed the native who had taken one of their away team members. It wasn't long before they came upon a small camp.

"Great." Whispered Archer as he and Malcolm watched the one they had followed drag someone and drop them beside the fire.

The native started speaking and the others surrounded the captive.

Archer quickly recognized the captive as Ensign Jacoby. He was a good man and Archer wasn't willing to lose anyone else.

Silently communicating his plan to Malcolm, they moved about to recover their captured man.

* * *

Fifteen minutes later Mitchel exhaled in relief when he and the rest of the team made it back to the shuttle pod.

They had pushed harder than before, knowing they needed to stash the plant, regroup, and use the sensors to get a reading on the natives.

Securing the plant in a cubby hole, Mitchel pulled up the sensors. "Crap, this does not look good." He told Ensign Taylor.

Stepping out of the shuttle pod, he motioned to the rest of the away team.

"Well, let's set about backing the Captain up and getting back to Enterprise." Mitchel passed the hand-held scanner around so everyone could see. The rest of the away team was a weary as he was, but they were tough and they knew the stakes of this mission. Commander Tucker was well liked and respected.

It pained everyone to see him suffering.

"Let's head out."

* * *

Groaning, Archer slowly lifted his head. Looking to his left he saw that Jacoby was still unconscious. Looking to his right, he saw Malcolm glaring openly at a rather large native.

"Don't tick him off, Malcolm," Archer said faintly, "I'd really not like to have to explain to your parents why you were torn in half on an away mission."

"Personally, Sir, I don't think he has the brains to know what my glare means, much less formulate any action on his part without being first ordered to do so." The Brit spit out just as quietly.

"Even so, Malcolm." Archer shook his head. Unfortunately, their plan had not worked as well as they had hoped. Now they were captured, and Trip was still no closer to an antidote.

Archer could have kicked himself for the time that they were wasting. He just hoped that Mitchel had left them behind and was making his way back to Enterprise.

* * *

Looking through the bushes, Mitchel saw the Captain, Malcolm, and Jacoby tied up and resting against trees near the fire.

He counted to ten and moved in, phase pistols charged and ready, as the planned explosion occurred just to the south, in the opposite direction of the shuttle pod.

Being distracted by the explosion, the natives didn't see Mitchel coming, but they did put up a fight.

 _"Boy, Phlox is not going to be happy when we get back."_ Mitchel thought ruefully.

"Captain." Mitchel said as he untied the Captain, who had watched the attack with a shocked expression on his face.

"Mitchel." Archer replied with a nod, grateful for the rescue, but worried that this would cost him Trip's life.

"What's our time looking like?" Archer asked, not wanting to burden Mitchel with his fears.

"It's midnight, Sir," Mitchel said, his face clearly showing his regret, frustration, and an eagerness to get back to Enterprise.

"Let's get going."

With one last look at the now unconscious natives, and a sad shake of his head at the result of a simple misunderstanding, Archer untied Malcolm and helped him to his feet.

Mitchel assisted Jacoby, who had regained consciousness moments before the attack, a large and bleeding bump evident on the back of the ensign's head.

Regrouping, they made sure everyone was accounted for and then were once more on their way back to the shuttle pod.

This time they stayed in a much tighter group and didn't let their guard down, despite the difficult terrain and darkness.

Making it back to the shuttle pod, they were all weary and breathless. They had been out all night and their altercation with the natives had left its mark.

Malcolm and Archer had fresh bruises forming on their faces, and Jacoby was still dazed from the head wound. Others had grazes and bruises of their own forming. But despite their exhaustion and injuries, no one complained. They all just piled into the shuttle pod, ready to be back on Enterprise and done with this planet.

After confirming that the plant was on board the shuttle pod, Archer started up the engine, praying that Phlox would have enough time to make the cure and that Trip's body would be able to respond to it.

As he made his way off of the planet and into the atmosphere, Archer's thoughts were consumed by his best friend. He never wanted to be in a position like this again.

Trip is his best friend. Trip is the one person that really understands him and isn't afraid to challenge him. They challenged each other. They made each other better. Trip has been by his side no matter what and he intended to return the favor.

He would be by Trip's side no matter what. They had their differences and different responsibilities, but their friendship was unshakable.

Archer hoped that Trip pulled through. He knew in his heart that Trip was strong enough to beat this thing, he just wished his brain was as confident.

As things were, he would give anything to switch places with Trip and save him from his suffering.


	9. Chapter 9

**Three Days Too Die**

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own _Star Trek: Enterprise_...blah, blah :/

 **A/N:** I really hope Y'all don't kill me for this! *Warning* Major character death (kinda).

Now, please enjoy!

* * *

Trip would give anything to switch places with Archer right now. As he woke up, he could still hear Archer's screams in the other cell.

It seemed that the men, or whatever they were, had decided to leave him alone. But it didn't sound like Archer had been as lucky and he couldn't help but feel that it was somehow his fault.

Listening to his best friend's screams was torture and knowing that there was nothing he could do about it almost destroyed him.

Archer was his best friend, his mentor, his confidant. They made a great team and were never far from trouble, but mostly the harmless kind.

There wasn't anything he wouldn't do for him, even if it cost him his life.

Carefully moving his arms, Trip attempted to get out of the chair. Every movement was a struggle as if his body was drugged or something.

Moving over to the cell door, he pushed and pulled, looking for any type of mechanism that he could tinker with.

Finally, he caught sight out of it. Wiping his forehead, his hand coming away bloody, he carefully leaned down to examine the mechanism.

Breathing out a pained laugh, he was relieved at the simplicity of the lock. He could do this in his sleep.

Carefully opening the door, he took a tentative step out of the cell. When the world didn't shatter around him, he began moving forward at a faster pace.

Checking the cells as quickly and quietly as he could, he finally reached the one he was looking for.

Opening the door was as easy as his cell door. When he got inside he could clearly make out the figure within and what he saw nearly made him expel the contents of his stomach.

Archer was a bloodied mess lying against the wall.

"Capt'n? Can you hear me?" He whispered as he carefully lowered himself down in front of Archer.

Gently shaking him, he searched Archer's face for any signs of awareness.

Groaning, Archer slowly came around. Sensing the closeness of another person, he quickly flinched and made to move away.

"It's okay, it's me. It's Trip, Capt'n." Recognition slowly filtered into Archer's eyes and he breathed a sigh of relief.

"T-thank goodn-ness it's y-you, Trip." Archer breathed out shakily, his sentence halted and covered in pain.

"Yeah, I'm gonna get us out of here, Capt'n." Trip said earnestly, "Can you move, walk?"

"Y-yeah." Came Archer's weak response.

Trip had just hoisted Archer's arm around his neck when a voice came out of nowhere and sent chills down his spine.

"So. I see you've managed to escape your cell. Well, I guess someone's gonna have to pay the price for that little mistake, aren't they?"

"What do you want with us?" Trip asked, confusion and anger ringing clearly in his voice.

"Information."

Before Trip could ask another question, Archer was ripped from his arms and thrown to the floor. Trip was roughly pinned against the wall, his ribs and arms protesting every single breath and movement.

"It looks like someone needs to learn a lesson." The figure moved towards Archer.

"No!" Trip called out, realizing their intention, "He's suffered enough! If you have to hurt someone, hurt me."

"Tempting as that may be, Commander, I have other uses for you. But the Captain here, well, he's outlived his usefulness."

"Outlived?!" Trip shouted, the breath again knocked from his lungs when he was pressed harder into the metal wall.

Struggling against the man pinning him to the wall, Trip fought with all he had.

They were going to kill Archer. He knew it, Archer knew it, and there wasn't a single thing he could do about it.

"Stop, please, I'll do anything, just let him live! We're more valuable to you alive!" Trip shouted, trying to free his arms, to do something to prevent the death of his closest friend, a man he considered more than a friend, a man he considered his brother.

With an evil glint in his eyes, the figure raised a weapon of some kind and pointed it at Archer's head.

Archer slowly raised his eyes to Trip's. He tried to smile and convey to Trip that it was okay, that it wasn't Trip's fault.

Trip just stared at Archer. He saw the resignation, the hopelessness. Terrified, he called out, "NO!"

But a single shot rang out and Archer's eyes lost all expression, emptiness replacing the once warm, passionate, and determined emotion buried in their depths.

Time seemed to stand still as the breath of Trip's best friend left his body in one swift whoosh.

As Archer's body went limp on the hard floor, Trip felt his world crash into a million different pieces.

A deafening silence reverberated throughout the room, his mind trying desperately to piece together what had just happened.

Vaguely he was aware of shouting and tears running down his face, but a numbness had taken hold of his mind. It was as if he were a spectator watching these events from outside of his body.

He saw himself slammed into the wall, the figure pinning him stumbling against his blind anger and anguish. He saw the other figure grin like it was Christmas before leaving the room.

He saw himself thrown to the floor before leaping up and going after the figure that had held him helpless as his best friend died a pointless death.

The figure brought a blow harshly down on his head, but he kept fighting. His anger fueling his actions.

The figure finally managed to wrestle him to the ground and suddenly Trip could feel the tightness on his throat through the numbness of his mind.

Gradually, he was aware of an urgent need for air, but his mind didn't fully comprehend why. Then he was violently thrust back into his body, his lungs fighting as the lack of oxygen burned unmercifully.

As his mind began to shut down, he horribly realized that he was staring right into Archer's lifeless eyes.

His last conscious thought was that he had failed his Captain…his friend… and his brother.


End file.
